


Indulgence

by schizoress



Series: Of Butterflies and Dragons [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Body Worship, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Magic, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Service Top, Trans Tekhartha Zenyatta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:04:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schizoress/pseuds/schizoress
Summary: In the still of night, Genji finds himself oh-so-willfully indulging in the blessings of the Fae.





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> This work is the first glimpse at an AU I've written wherein Genji is Dragon-kin (clearly, as I am incredibly un-inventive and I adore dragon lore) and Zenyatta is of the Fae Folk.
> 
> If you're looking for the fun fluffy get-together and plot points you'll have to look forward to the main fic a little later.  
Many thanks to my horny cohorts who made me post this piece before anything else though, love y'all.

Zenyatta started a little, pulse whirring as he was swooped up and into the air with little warning. It was a gentle motion, really, but it managed to catch him off guard enough that he found his grip moving to tighten at Genji's shoulders in an effort to ground himself. His voice was warm and soothing, though, causing the Fae to settle quickly. The way Genji nuzzled close brought a separate layer of comfort altogether, and Zenyatta sighed dreamily, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he drew an answer for the swordsman.

“Down the corridor, last room on the left.” He breathed, tilting his head to allow the intrusion more comfortable access as they began to move. Genji's lips were warm and soft against his throat, unwieldy in the best way as they maneuvered toward their destination. 

He was set down gently atop his bed, sheets and blankets and pillows all soft and perfectly arranged. It was clear that he did not use the area often, for any reason, but Zenyatta was glad at least that it meant the room was clean. Whether or not it would remain that way was increasingly less likely, what with the way Genji clamored over him, displacing the serene settings so that he could better indulge himself in the delicacy that was Zenyatta.

With an almost animalistic instinct, Genji found Zenyatta’s neck with his teeth again, worrying at fresh bruises as he worked the Fae back into a enamored state of euphoria. Lithe fingers tickled at the back of his neck, slowly curling through the short wefts of hair there as the Fae arched into his touch. 

“_Genji..._” His name was but a whisper, a shaky exhale into the still air around them and it still managed to drive the swordsman absolutely wild. Part of him wanted to sink his teeth firmly into the tender flesh beneath him, mark Zenyatta so clearly and blatantly that he'd be ashamed to go back home without trying to cover it up. He wanted the ethereal being so covered in his touch that it'd be impossible to conceal it all. Genji did not know why, but something deep in his gut rumbled with satisfaction at the idea of people knowing the Fae was taken by some mystical force they had never seen and would never meet. Zenyatta was too pretty to not want all to himself, anyway. 

The fingers in his hair kept him close as he spoke, “Just a taste is certainly not enough.” His voice rumbled with the implication, lips curling into a smirk against purpling skin. “May I..?” His hands drifted down Zenyatta's sides, calloused fingers dipping into the divots at the creature's hips, waiting for permission that came in the way of a quiet rustle of silk. Zenyatta's own hand slid down to find Genji's and moved it up, pressing to let rough fingers dip under the smooth wraps he wore. A little spark of magic and the fabric loosened, dropping off his shoulders and unwinding from his waist, leaving his tanned flesh nearly bare.

Hungry eyes run over the sight before him, mouth suddenly dry as he thinks with a bitter humor about his words from before. The Fae is breathtaking, somehow more so like this than he had been glowing in the center of an altar like a prophecy from some long forgotten God. His touch is reverent, yet tentative as he drags the pads of his fingers over soft skin unmarred by signs of physical labor or hard work. Zenyatta is thin, but not wispy. There is a clear look of strength in all his form, but it's so delicately put together that Genji still feels like anything he might do could shatter the Fae into pieces. 

“Much as I enjoy such adoring looks,” Zenyatta's voice is brimming with tired humor, though it escapes him in tense breaths of anticipation, “I don't believe I have the patience to wait much longer.” It comes out as a plea but is laced with more of that sweet poison that makes up his entire being. Zenyatta is flushed with want; there is a need somewhere deep down that has blossomed and that little voice grows louder with every moment of pause. _Touch. Please, touch, please._

Genji is on him in an instant again, grip firm at one hip while the other hand splays itself over Zenyatta's stomach. “I will take my time with you.” The words are firm, and something dangerous flashes behind those green eyes, something predatory. It causes Genji's pupils to slit and Zenyatta is almost too dazed to notice, but he doesn't speak a word of it aloud. Instead he tries to cant his hips and whines pitifully when he realizes that the hold he has on him is solid; moving only causes blunt nails to dig carefully into the flesh beneath them and the Fae gasps, stilling instantly. 

It's instinctual, he thinks, to submit like this. To bare himself beneath someone larger and far more dangerous in this moment than he could think to be. Touch comes slowly, deft fingers methodically trailing their way across his skin to press and tease and rub. Each point of lasting contact is replaced by Genji's mouth eventually, and Zenyatta keens at the wet warmth when it presses over peaked nipples, teeth scraping deliciously over them until he has been expertly taken apart and left a quivering mess beneath the other man. 

But then that tongue drags lower, over his navel, following the lines of gold painted across his stomach, and is slowly replaced with soft, open-mouthed kisses as Genji moves down. It tickles and Zenyatta squirms, but he doesn't ask for the swordsman to stop. Rather he moans into the contact, eyes fluttering shut and thighs shaking at the effort to remain still with the unspoken command still heavy in the air around them. Genji rewards his wavering patience when he ducks his head lower, tongue dragging down and pressing into a warmth that sparks all of his senses and sets his nerves on fire. 

Somehow Zenyatta tastes even sweeter here, and Genji worries for a moment that he might regain his sweet tooth from when he was younger. The high keen that bubbles from the Fae's throat washes the thought from his mind instantly, however, and the swordsman focuses solely on trying to draw out more of _that_. His hands drag down, loosening their hold on Zenyatta's hips to press along the inside of his thighs, pushing them up and apart so that he can bury his tongue deeper within him. 

All he smells is the Fae now, and it has him straining behind the soft cotton of his own clothing, the only faint reminder that he is still fully dressed. He ignores the pulsing of his own want, this strange need to please far stronger than any idea of his own pleasure that it drowns out his frustrations and he forgets. He forgets so that he can lose himself in this perfumed scent, ears filled with the sound of Zenyatta's broken off moans and gasps. 

The Fae's thighs flex and tighten at either side of his head when Genji's fingers join back in the fray, tongue spreading his meal to make room for his fingers to assist it. Zenyatta whines, chest stuttering and mouth dropped open, a constant silent plea for, for _something_. 

It seems answered when Genji's fingers slide inside of him, his walls clamping down to try and pull them in further as they curl and thrust, a thumb replacing Genji's tongue so that he was free to shift back up and press his slick-stained lips against the Fae's. 

The mercenary swallows all of the noises, growling low at the way one of Zenyatta's hands comes to clutch at his wrist where it was settled between his thighs, the other draped loosely across his back. The creature tilts his hips and urges Genji's fingers in deeper, breaking their kiss to mewl at the resulting wave of pleasure that crashes over him as those fingers, now joined by a third, spread and press against that spot relentlessly. 

Zenyatta's nails drag against his flesh, sharp enough to feel even through his shirt and light chainmail, but the sensation only drives Genji to continue, fingers pumping deep and fast, over and over again until he feels the walls around them tense and the Fae's form settle into sharp, halted full body tremors. He presses his thumb against the bundle of nerves above where his fingers are nestled and rubs it through the duration of Zenyatta's orgasm, smirking when he feels those nails pressing lasting marks into the skin of his wrist.

“_Nn_– Gen..ji,” Zenyatta hiccups, voice pitching as tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. They flood with gold as the pleasure threatens to tear him apart, shimmering in the slivers of moonlight that peek into the room to wash over them both. Genji slides his fingers out carefully, eyes lidded and heady with something akin to smug satisfaction. He lifts them to his lips and licks them clean, pupils dilating at the smell and taste of the Fae's sex. It's like a perfume of the sweetest flowers and ripest fruits rolling through his palate and Genji worries that this will stain him more than any trick of magical food or drink.

“Zen...” The name is soft on his lips, but Genji loses the rest of his words to the way the Fae pulls him back down to steal another kiss. It's haphazard and sloppy, not hungry as before but slow and lazy. Zenyatta lingers in the motion of their lips slotted together, lids low over shimmering irises, and whispers something in a language Genji can't quite make out. 

All at once he feels the exhaustion bleed from the Fae and into his own bones. The command _sleep_ washes through him and his limbs feel heavy. Then Zenyatta's hands are at his shoulders, guiding him down onto the bed beside him. Some alarm blares that he's in danger, but it's muffled, suffocated by the sense of serenity pouring from his freshly sated companion. So he closes his eyes, breathes deep and slow, and lets this feeling drag him under as they both fall asleep.

Genji wakes up slowly, body a dead weight against the mattress. His first instinct is to panic, because as he assesses his surroundings he notices nothing immediately familiar. A feeling of calm forces its way through his muscles though, and he takes a second to think. Or at least he tries too, but as soon as he clears his mind he's hit with a wave of pleasure and sucks in a breath of air as he focuses his sight down the line of his own body to see a painted crown nestled snug against his pelvis. 

“Zen..?” The Fae rumbles against his cock and slowly pulls up and off of it with a lewd pop. His eyes are fully gold, and he seems to be so content that it's bleeding off of him in waves of gentle magic. That would explain how well he had slept, or the fact that he didn't wake up until he was fully hard and, he realizes now, very _very_ close to cumming. Zenyatta purrs, lips wet as they curl into a devious grin. He's like a cat nearly fully sated and playing with the last of his meal. The way his tongue flicks back out and over plump, shimmering lips to press into Genji's slit is some cursed mix of hellish and heavenly and his cock throbs so hard it almost hurts. 

Zenyatta doesn't say anything, just huffs a chuckle and slowly slides his lips back down Genji's dick, a well manicured hand sneaking up to cup and roll his sac as he continues to leisurely suck him off. Genji's hips stutter at a particularly motivated bob where he feels the point of the Fae's teeth ghost across his flesh. It's dangerous and arousing all at once and Genji cannot help the way he bucks into the wet warmth surrounding him, shamefully relishing in the way Zenyatta splutters a little in surprise. He does it again, but Zenyatta catches him this time, let's him push in as deep as he can but doesn't let him pull back out. He can feel the Fae swallow around him where his cock is pressed against the back of his throat and he's punched with another overwhelming wave of arousal. 

“A-_Ah_– Zen I'm–” The Fae sucks harder, pulling him in even further if it were possible, and ignores the way Genji squirms to try and break free. After a long, quiet moment, Genji bucks into his mouth again, calloused fingers moving to hold his head snug up against his pelvis as the swordsman cums. Zenyatta can feel it, warm and sticky, as it splatters over his tongue and down his throat. He swallows, hungry for all of it, only opening his mouth after Genji releases his grip. A last spurt splashes across his lips, agape and panting now, and Zenyatta cherishes the moment it takes him to lick them clean. 

The gold of his eyes is bright, a glow that seems to illuminate the entire room as he drags himself up to settle over Genji, skin prickling with anticipation at the contact. 

“Good morning, Genji.” Zenyatta's voice is rough, but fluid as he greets his new partner, “I hope I didn't wake you.” The concern is tainted with humor and sharp teeth glint behind a sly smirk. Genji considers a snarky response, brow furrowing in thought, but ultimately resorts to dragging his palms down his face and sighing. The noise is some mix of exasperated and content, and he can _feel_ the smug aura just flowing from the creature draped atop him. 

Time passes slowly in the early morning, the heat of their lust and engagements from earlier blending with the warm rays of sun that filter over their bare forms. Zenyatta considers bringing up what he had noticed about his newfound companion, but is hesitant to break the layer of calm that's developed. He likes having this moment, the connection of their souls and bodies in a moment of rest. Their lips slide together soft and slow, tentatively romantic in the privacy of this place, and they happily forget all responsibility for now.

The rise of chimes from other parts of the shrine is muffled and far away; a call to activity–_to separation_–that neither of them wish to acknowledge. At least.. not yet.


End file.
